


The Tower Keep (Me Close At Hand)

by notanightlight



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Brotherly Bonding, Can’t Take The Acrobat Out Of The Boy, Damian Is Learning What It’s Like Having Someone To Count On, Gen, Light Angst, Wayne Tower, i hope...., with a fluffy end
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-12
Updated: 2017-12-12
Packaged: 2019-02-13 19:40:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12991110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notanightlight/pseuds/notanightlight
Summary: Keep (n); the main tower within a medieval fortress or castle.  Often the central and most protected part of the fortification.





	The Tower Keep (Me Close At Hand)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DawnsEternalLight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DawnsEternalLight/gifts).



> A birthday fic for DawnsEternalLight, who asked for Dick and Damian with fluff and a little angst. I think I succeeded in corralling the angst.
> 
> Thank again to my amazing Beta and expert comma wrangler, Amy.

 

With a precise hand, Damian placed the last book on the shelf in his new room. He took a step back and nodded to himself, satisfied to see that the dagger he'd hidden behind it was completely obscured.

Both Grayson and Pennyworth had stressed the importance of concealing any live weapons he intended to keep at hand. And though it galled him to have his swords tucked behind his headboard instead of displayed above it, Damian supposed they had a bit more experience when it came to maintaining the facade of civilian life. He didn't intend to allow any strangers into this part of the penthouse, but now that he had the duties of Robin to fulfill he would not see his father's secrets undone due to an oversight on his part. Even now that they were no longer residing in his ancestral home.

From a practical standpoint, Damian could appreciate the efficiency of moving their base of operations to Wayne Tower. It was central to the city, bringing Batman and Robin closer to the criminal element and eliminating the time it took to drive in from the outskirts. It was also more convenient in that there was no need to hide or explain any increased security protocols in a modern building.

On a private and personal level, Damian appreciated not having to spend his days in a Manor containing only himself, two other residents, and the memories of the father he never truly got a chance to know. He just wasn’t used to that degree of solitude.

When he lived with his mother, there were always people about: tutors, trainers, guards, subordinates, and of course, Mother. But that wasn’t his life anymore. He had chosen his father’s way. For all that she had wanted Damian to earn his father’s respect, it was clear that Mother did not approve of Damian pursuing Batman’s legacy rather than the League of Assassins’.

With one last look to confirm that everything was in place, Damian left his room and made his way to the living room.

“Grayson, I've finished arranging my quarters,” he called out.

There was no answer.

Damian’s eyes swept over the living room, but there found no sign of anyone else's presence. The tv was off and there wasn't even a hint of movement from either the living room or the attached kitchen.

The stillness was unsettling.

Damian frowned. Pennyworth was currently at the Manor ensuring that everything was sufficiently closed up; however, Grayson should have been here. And Grayson was very seldom quiet outside of patrol.

Damian swiftly turned on his heel and made his way back down the hall. He was hyper aware of any sounds that might indicate someone's presence, yet heard nothing but the pervading silence and his own footfalls.

A glance revealed that the hallway bathroom was just as empty as the other rooms had been. Damian increased his pace.

He came to the master bedroom and threw the door open without bothering to knock.

“Grayson?”

Again, he was met with no reply.

The room was empty. It looked even less lived in than Damian's, with unpacked boxes stacked around the room and the closet open to reveal vacant hangers.

Damian's hand tightened on the door handle.

He was alone.

He turned, leaving the bedroom door open and hurried back to the living room.

“Grayson! If this is some kind of childish prank it's not appreciated!” He called, straining his ears for any hint of smothered laughter that might give the man away.

Nothing.

Possible explanations for Grayson’s absence flew through his mind at a rapid rate. Because Grayson may be a fool at times, but he wouldn't just leave Damian without reason.

Unbidden, he found himself thinking of his mother who no longer welcomed him, and his father who died and left Damian behind before ever truly accepting him. With those thoughts an icy feeling settled in his chest that he refused to acknowledge, but still spurred him on to tear through the room for any hiding place he might have overlooked.

Because Grayson wouldn't just—

Damian stopped. His fists clenched at his sides as he took a deep breath.

Grayson wouldn't _abandon him._

Out of all of the adults in Damian's life, Grayson wouldn't just leave Damian behind.

He made Damian his Robin.

Resolve firmed, Damian resumed his search. There must be something he was missing; some detail he overlooked. His eyes caught on the sliding glass doors that led out to the balcony. They were unlocked.

In a flash, Damian skidded out onto the balcony. It was just as empty as the inside of the penthouse, but off to one side were stairs leading up to the roof.

Damian could have kicked himself. It was so obvious! He dashed up the stairs and felt his stomach drop.

Grayson wasn't there.

He viciously tamped down the disappointment that swelled inside of him. It was fine. He must have missed something else. He'd go back in and look again. Maybe check if Grayson had gone to start preparing the Bunker...

“Hey, Little D!”

Damian’s head jerked up towards the voice. There, perched on the very top of one of the tower’s two spires, sat the very man he'd been looking for. He didn't closely examine the feeling that flooded his chest, but if forced, he would've had to call it something like relief.

Grayson waved down at him with a grin on his face and Damian rolled his eyes.

Of course. He should have known that if you didn't find Richard Grayson by looking up, the solution was to look up even higher.

“I thought you were unpacking,” Grayson continued, looking perfectly at ease above the city.

“That was simple,” Damian replied. He crossed his arms and gave Grayson a critical look. “I finished arranging my quarters ages ago, although perhaps you find it a more challenging task, seeing as you obviously haven't even started.”

Grayson gave a nonchalant shrug in response.

“The boxes will still be there later. I just wanted to get a bit of perspective,” he said, gesturing at the cityscape spread out before them.

Damian raised an eyebrow.

“Should you be doing that in plainclothes?”

Grayson chuckled, offering Damian an unconcerned smile.

“That's the thing about having a Circus background; it gives me a lot more leeway to pull stunts like this. In fact…” Grayson fished his phone out of his pocket. Smooth as could be, Grayson shifted from sitting, into a one-handed handstand. He gave the phone in his free hand a matinee idol grin and snapped a selfie.

Satisfied, he returned to a seated position.

“Gotta keep up appearances,” he quipped, waggling the phone in Damian's direction. He cheerfully tapped away at his phone for a moment, commenting about how Twitter was going to love this photo.

“You are the most ridiculous adult I have ever encountered,” Damian said with some authority.

Grayson laughed so hard in response he nearly went tumbling from the spire.

Point proven, as far as Damian was concerned.

It took a moment for Grayson to get himself back under control. Through the last few persistent chuckles, he managed to say, “I'm okay with that.”

“Tt.”

Grayson propped an elbow on his knee so he could rest his head on his hand as he gazed down at the boy below.

“So what brings you up here?”

“Looking for you,” Damian admitted, although he quickly added, “Seeing as you’re incapable of completing the task on your own, I thought you could use the assistance of someone with superior knowledge of defensive layouts to arrange your room.”

Grayson’s head tilted slightly in consideration, and Damian suddenly wondered if the shadow of his earlier emotional turmoil was visible to that sharp blue gaze. It still caught Damian off guard, the way Grayson could switch from laughable buffoon to capable detective in the space of a heartbeat.

The scrutiny lasted only a second before Grayson’s expression went warm and benign again.

“I’d be happy to have you help me unpack,” he said, “but first... you have to get a good look at this view!”

Damian blinked.

“What?”

“I mean it, Dami. It's the best view in the city!”

“You're joking.”

“No, it's really pretty spectacular.”

“That's not what I—” Damian cut himself off. From the pleased sparkle in his eye, it was clear that Grayson knew that wasn't what he meant.

“Fine,” he conceded, if only because the other option would be leave Grayson to his ridiculousness and march back inside. While that might momentarily satisfy his pride, it would mean Damian was back where he started; alone in the empty penthouse.

Instead he marched up to the base of the spire, intending to be done with this silly indulgence quickly. However, that was easier said than done.

Although the flattened tip of the spire was just wide enough to sit on, the base was far wider. It was further around than Damian’s arms or legs could reach. That, coupled with its smooth surface would make climbing it… challenging to say the least.

Grayson seemed to come to the same conclusion, because he readjusted his position up above. He clamped his legs around the top of the spire and let his upper body drop so he was hanging upside down.

Damian had no doubt that his face must have shown some of the skepticism he felt staring at the extended hands still a good several feet above his head.

Grayson offered him an upside down grin, perfectly at ease with his shirt riding up and his hair standing on end.

“You’ll have to jump, but I promise it's worth it.”

“It had better be,” Damian grumbled to himself. Nevertheless, Damian bent his knees, and sprang up as high as he could.

“Gotcha!”

Calloused hands caught his wrists in a firm grip.

“Now just hang on, okay?”

Damian nodded, trying not to show how distinctly uncomfortable he was just hanging there like dead weight.

With a little “hup!” Grayson smoothly curled his body upwards, bringing his arms in as he did so. So when he was back in a seated position, Damian's arms were wrapped over his shoulders, as if he was giving Damian a piggyback ride.

The sharp remark Damian had been prepared to say withered on his tongue. Instead, he just breathed a quiet, “oh.”

Damian was used to Gotham at night. The long reaching shadows and low yellow glow of streetlights. The Gotham he knew was somber, dark, and stately. But this was a Gotham he'd never seen before. This Gotham was brilliant.

Atop the spire, he and Grayson were higher than all of the surrounding buildings. So there was nothing to block the view of the first colors of sunset reflecting off thousands of windows. The city looked vibrant in a way he had never noticed before. There was enough light to see the colors of the buildings themselves; the variations in the old stone buildings and the newer steel skyscrapers. And far below, the streets still bustled with the motion of countless people as they went on their way.

It was strange. Damian had spent many a day down in that bustle, and many a night crossing the city at heights this great, but this was the first time it had ever really looked alive.

He was so taken in by the sight that he barely noticed Grayson adjusting his grip to support his legs.

For a moment they sat there in silence, looking over the city they were sworn to protect as purple bled into the rosy hues reflected off every window in sight.

When Grayson finally broke the silence his voice was soft.

“You know, the Tower didn't have these spires originally.”

Damian tightened his arms, but didn't interrupt.

“Bruce added them when he rebuilt after the earthquake. I never asked him why.”

He breathed deeply, Damian rising and falling with the expansion of his chest.

“I'm certain my father had a tactically sound reason for their addition,” Damian commented.

“He usually did,” Grayson agreed. “Still, I doubt this is what he had in mind.”

“Perhaps.”

They lapsed into comfortable silence again as they watched the sunset continue to color their city. There was something about the undemanding company so far above everything else that filled Damian with a sense of peace. He leaned his head against Grayson's and let himself relax.

After a moment or two passed, Grayson spoke up again.

“Thanks, Damian.”

“Hm?”

“For taking in the view with me,” Grayson clarified. “We can get down now, if you like.”

Damian readjusted his grip to settle in better.

“That's alright,” he replied, “we can stay here a bit longer.”

 

  
End. 

 


End file.
